


The Tooth Fairy

by wheel_pen



Series: Finn [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clones, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five-year-old Finn loses his first tooth. Sherlock doesn’t handle it very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tooth Fairy

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.  
> This story has not been Britpicked. Please let me know if I get anything horribly wrong.  
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

John was cleaning up the breakfast dishes when he heard a wail from upstairs, followed by Sherlock shouting his name with a slight edge of panic in his tone. Sherlock did not panic when confronting serial killers; but Finn’s favored toaster pastries had rather flummoxed him the other day, so John wasn’t sure what to expect as he hurried up the stairs. The door to the bathroom was open and Sherlock knelt on the floor in front of Finn, who was sobbing loudly and holding a washcloth to his face.

Maybe John should’ve taken washing-up-and-dressing duty today, and let Sherlock put away the breakfast things. Except last time, Sherlock had gotten distracted watching one of his experiments mutate and left the milk out to go bad.

John knelt down in front of the boy as well. “Alright, it’s alright,” he said soothingly, reaching for the washcloth. “Let’s just take a look.” There was a small smudge of blood on the cloth.

“John! He was brushing his teeth, like you said he had to, and _one of them came out_ ,” Sherlock reported, breathless with alarm. “Twice _every day_ is really too much, John! He said it’s been loose for several days. Do you know a dentist?”

John gently swabbed at the gap where Finn’s upper left canine had been and shown his penlight at it for a closer look, which only confirmed the obvious conclusion. Well, obvious to _him_ , anyway.

“Alright, there’s nothing to worry about,” John assured Finn cheerfully, rubbing his arms. “You’ve just lost your first tooth, that’s all!”

“Well, _obviously_ , John,” Sherlock intruded. “The question is _why_? Finn, did you get into another fight at the park?” he demanded.

“No!” the boy insisted. “I didn’t! It just started being all wobbly a while ago—“

“Well you ought to have mentioned it then,” Sherlock chastised him. “Were you gnawing on a tin of something again?”

John did a slight double-take at that. “ _Again?_ ” he repeated with surprise. Then he tried to keep himself focused. “No, no, it’s perfectly normal. It’s absolutely alright to lose your teeth, Finn.”

“John, I _really_ don’t think—“

Sometimes Sherlock was, to be frank, the dumbest genius John knew of. “The teeth you have right now are your _baby teeth_ ,” he explained to Finn, who had a _good_ reason for not knowing this. “And as you get older, they’ll all fall out, one by one, and new grown-up teeth will grow in their place.”

“ _What?!_ ” Sherlock exclaimed, completely astounded. John’s smile at Finn became slightly more forced. “John, that’s _completely_ ridiculous!”

Finn’s eyes pinged between the two of them uncertainly. “It’s not ridiculous, it happens to everyone,” John replied evenly, trying to sound calm and authoritative, when inside he wanted to smack Sherlock upside the head with a smartphone. “Over the next few years the baby teeth will be replaced by your permanent teeth. It just means you’re growing up!” This was the terminology that put him over the top with Finn. “It might feel a bit odd but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“It didn’t really hurt,” Finn assured him, somewhat proud of himself now. He picked up the tooth to examine it curiously. “It’s much bigger than I thought it would be.”

“Well there’s a lot inside the gum, holding it in place like an anchor,” John pointed out. “No, don’t try to put it back in. Your new tooth needs room to grow.”

“Can we look at it under the microscope, Daddy?” Finn pleaded excitedly.

“Um, I suppose,” Sherlock agreed tentatively. “John, you’re sure this is completely normal?”

“Yes, Sherlock,” John replied, letting a _bit_ of condescension creep into his tone as he stood up. “It happens to everyone, even you. You surely remember.” He plugged the sink drain so Finn could wash his new prize without fear of losing it.

“I most certainly do not,” Sherlock stated, as if it constituted a moral failing.

“Well, clearly, it happened,” John reiterated, pointing at Finn. Sherlock did not possess some genetic abnormality that backed up his lack of recollection, anyway.

He could see Sherlock was thinking it over—bereft of handy reference books or the Internet for the moment, he had to weigh his knowledge of John’s character and experience, as well as the evidence of his own eyes. John thought he finally saw cautious acceptance in them.

“Is there anything else that’s going to fall out and be replaced?” Sherlock asked guardedly.

John tried not to burst into laughter. “Nothing comes to mind,” he promised, and Sherlock seemed vastly relieved.

“ _All_ my teeth will fall out?” Finn confirmed with interest. “What should I do with them? Can I make a necklace of them?”

John tried to picture it. It was a little grim. “Mmm, we’ll see,” he deferred. “Sherlock, maybe you could finish up the breakfast dishes,” he suggested, seeing the other man reluctant to dive back in to the child-handling duties. Lest anything else unexpectedly snap off, John thought, chortling a little to himself.

“Right, good idea,” Sherlock agreed, bounding down the stairs.

“I think Daddy is going to be a little skittish today,” John predicted dryly to Finn.

**

John brought the coffees over to the picnic table, having witnessed from the kiosk Sherlock having an actual conversation with Melanie, which pleased him. At least, he _hoped_ he should be pleased.

“John,” Sherlock began as soon as he was close enough, “did you know there was a gay man in the area who purchases children’s discarded teeth? Purposes unknown.” Clearly he found this suspicious.

It took John a moment to get it. “Oh, the _tooth fairy_?” he realized. He glanced at Melanie and she nodded heavily; he wondered how long she’d spent trying to explain this.

“What do you think he does with them?” Sherlock asked speculatively, sipping his coffee. “Some kind of recycling program?”

“Calcium supplements have to come from _somewhere_ ,” Melanie deadpanned, and John snickered a little. He liked Melanie—she was very good at putting up with Sherlock’s foibles.

Sherlock nodded as if this made perfect sense. “It’s not mandatory, is it?” he inquired. “Finn wants to keep his teeth for scientific study.”

“And also to make into a necklace,” John added lightly.

“Better go with an anklet, they’re pretty small,” Melanie advised seriously. The two of them laughed at the idea of an anklet made of teeth, while Sherlock glanced between them dubiously.

“Michelle was just telling me that, er, her child has also lost teeth, and they’ve been replaced naturally,” Sherlock informed John. “So it seems to be a widespread phenomenon.”

“Oh good,” John commented dryly. “So, _Melanie_ , how many teeth has _Cimmy_ lost so far?”

“Three,” she reported. “Pulled out a back molar on a popcorn ball the other day. Bit of a mess, that was.”

“These first draft teeth seem functionally unsound,” Sherlock judged. “How long do the proper ones take to grow back in? Should we just have all of Finn’s removed at once?”

“No,” John told him firmly.

“Oh.”

“The first couple are novel,” Melanie opined, “then it gets a bit old. They always seem to happen somewhere inconvenient, like on the Tube or at the grocery store.”

John nodded sympathetically. “Yes, it was quite the excitement this morning, much crying and shouting.” Beat. “Finn took it well, though.”

Sherlock was self-aware enough to know he was being teased and huffed. “It’s _alarming_ , John,” he insisted. “One thinks of body parts falling off and leprosy immediately comes to mind.”

“Not to _everyone’s_ mind,” John assured him. “Did he tell you he doesn’t think it ever happened to him?” he asked Melanie pleasantly. She nodded.

“Madalyn said she doesn’t remember it happening to _her_ , either,” Sherlock told him smugly. “So, hardly the monumental childhood event you claim.”

“Oh really, _Melanie_?”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m the youngest of four, I reckon Mum and Dad didn’t make too much of it by then,” she suggested.

“There’s a thought,” John realized suddenly, poking Sherlock’s shoulder. “We could ask your brother.”

Sherlock gave him an unamused look. “The situation hardly calls for drastic action, John,” he said. “Between you, Miranda, and Wikipedia I’m assured of the normalcy of this development, even if it makes little sense.”

“Glad I could help,” Melanie replied.

“Mostly it was Wikipedia,” Sherlock corrected.

“Why did I even bother with that medical degree,” John sighed.


End file.
